


just give it some time

by bettyandrews (cherryliqueur)



Series: candy hearts: a valentine's day smut collection [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Barebacking, Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fingerfucking, Hair-pulling, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryliqueur/pseuds/bettyandrews
Summary: “Considering Cheryl’s the one madly in love, maybe you ought to let her take the reins so you can focus on what your real problem is.”“My real problem?” Betty repeats dryly, even as her breath hitches in her throat as Sweet Pea’s hand slides up higher, pushing her skirt up and around her hips.“You need to get laid.”
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Sweet Pea
Series: candy hearts: a valentine's day smut collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144907
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	just give it some time

**Author's Note:**

> Betty and Sweet Pea have always given me "frenemies/'hate'-fuck buddies" vibes that is pure Unresolved Sexual Tension gold, and I'm glad that I finally had a chance to explore that with this fic! I think this ship deserves a hell of a lot more love - and definitely a lot more smut - so I hope this is a fun little read for those of you that feel the same!
> 
> (Also, for those of you who might not have seen this little announcement on tumblr, this pseudonym "bettyandrews" will be used for my more relationship-type smut while my main pseudonym "cherryliqueur" will continue to be used for my usual taboo smut.)

In the end, Betty decides that she’ll have Cheryl to blame for this. She’s the one who’s been fighting Betty on almost every detail for the Valentine’s Day dance since the two of them were named co-heads of the committee, and it’s her party that Betty ends up getting drunk at after letting Sweet Pea goad her into sneaking off into one of the dozen guest bedrooms to split a god-awful pack of beer coolers. Betty cannot for the life of her fathom why he wanted to drink with _her_ of all people, when she knows that Fangs and even Jughead are floating around somewhere - but after a week like hers, she wasn’t about to turn down a few free drinks and a chance to vent about her problems.

“I don’t know why you care so damn much,” Sweet Pea drawls, and Betty turns to glare at him as much as she can with how blurred the edges of her vision have become. When they’d first hopped up onto the bed, she’d been careful not to sit too close - something that’s a bit of a feat in itself with how long his limbs are, especially when he’s lounged back and sprawled out across the expensive duvet. But after half a case of coolers, Betty doesn’t really care that she’s nearly laying on top of him, pressing against his side with the way the bed dips from their weight. “One way or another, Cheryl always gets whatever the hell she wants. No point in getting your panties in a twist over it.”

“There’s a budget for a reason,” Betty argues, and she _knows_ she sounds childish, but she thinks she’s allowed to be given how much grief Cheryl has caused her over the last week. Sweet Pea’s eyes glint in amusement, and Betty’s just drunk enough to not think twice before she’s reaching over to smack his chest with an indignant huff. “Don’t take her side! Everyone always takes her side.”

“Hey, easy there,” Sweet Pea laughs, knocking her hand away as he rolls onto his elbow. His own hand falls onto her thigh, at the edge of her skirt, and his long, calloused fingers nearly wrap halfway around her leg. “I’m not taking her side because I don’t fucking care enough _to_ take a side,” he argues, and Betty rolls her eyes at this. _Typical._ “But you and I both know that dealing with Cheryl Blossom means picking your battles, even if it’s irritating as shit to let her get her way all the damn time, and this is hardly a battle worth standing your ground for. It’s a high school dance _,_ Princess. Let her blow the fucking balloon budget.”

“But that’s _not the point_.”

“Nah, it’s not, and it’s definitely not your point for being pissed off.” Sweet Pea gives her knee a squeeze. “Just because you and Jones called it quits doesn’t mean you’ve got to rain on everyone else’s Valentine’s Day,” he says, and, like the asshole he is, he laughs at the obvious indignation flashing in Betty’s eyes as she scoffs. “Considering Cheryl’s the one madly in love, maybe you ought to let her take the reins so you can focus on what your real problem is.”

“My real problem?” Betty repeats dryly, even as her breath hitches in her throat as Sweet Pea’s hand slides up higher, pushing her skirt up and around her hips.

He ducks his head, lips brushing against her ear as he strokes two of those long fingers up against the front of her panties, which are far damper than she realized now that she’s paying attention. She knows that drinking always gets her a little bit wet, but not like _this._ “You need to get laid,” he says, nipping at her earlobe, and she arches her neck as if in encouragement even as she makes a noise of protest as his words. “Preferably until you pass out. That ought to take the edge off to get you through this damn dance without drowning yourself in spiked punch.”

“You’re such an ass,” she breathes as he shifts above her, his lips sliding lower as he licks at the column of her throat. “Sex doesn’t solve everything, you know.”

The words are barely out of her mouth when she feels his thumb pressing against her, circling, making her back arch as a shiver slides down her spine. He smirks against her skin. “Maybe not, but it’s the _best_ fucking stress relief.” His hand shifts, sliding under the waistband of her panties, and Betty can’t quite help the mewl that falls from her lips when his fingers slide through the warm, slick folds of her pussy. His calloused fingertips find her clit with ease, spreading her open to tease the little bud. “After blacking out from an orgasm, I guarantee you won’t give a fuck about not having a boyfriend at the Valentine’s dance.”

“That’s...” She licks her lips, twisting his shirt in her grip as he rubs at her twitching entrance. “That’s not possible.”

“Blacking out from sex?” Sweet Pea pulls away, and Betty’s whimper sounds pathetic even to her own ears as his hands find the lace waistband of her panties. “It’s _very_ fucking possible, and I’ll prove it,” he tells her, and she only has a second to react to the fact that he’s ripping her panties off and tossing them aside before he’s sliding down her body. His breath ghosts across her pussy as he pauses to catch her gaze, pressing her legs apart...

And then he’s ducking his head, his tongue licking in a broad stroke through her slickness, and Betty bows off of the mattress.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groans, the word vibrating against her clit and drawing a mewl from Betty’s throat as he licks again, and again, and _again_.

_Oh, god._

_O-oh, oh fuck._

Betty isn’t quite sure if those words are ringing in her thoughts, or if she manages to slur them out among her own moans, but Sweet Pea nearly growls against her as if in response and _oh_ , does the sensation of it only make her moan louder. Loud enough that she wonders if there’s a chance that someone can hear her over the blaring music and thrumming bass two floors below.

But she _doesn’t care_ , not with the way Sweet Pea strokes and teases and licks. He fucks her twitching entrance with his tongue, curling and hitting a spot inside of her that nearly has her whiting out as she throws both of her hands over her mouth, and then he’s licking up and lingering over her throbbing bundle of nerves until she’s shaking - again and again, never letting her find a rhythm and never letting her hips move an inch out of place.

Until she’s there, _right there_ on the edge, and he’s closing his lips around her clit and sucking gently and she presses her hands harder over her mouth to muffle her cry as pleasure crashes over her. It nearly hurts, how fast she comes and how hard it hits her, but Sweet Pea doesn’t relent, not even a little. He groans as her orgasm slams through her, licking up her wetness, lapping at her throbbing little bud as he presses two of those long fingers into her, and Betty’s hands shoot down to grasp Sweet Pea’s hair.

Whether she wants to shove him away or pull him even closer, she’s not quite sure, but he doesn’t give her a chance to decide as he starts fucking her.

“S- _Sweet_...” she gasps, feeling herself throb under his tongue as he licks and licks, not seeming to mind that she’s twisting her fingers into his hair as her hips roll against his fingers and his mouth.

It feels as if it only takes seconds before she’s coming again, pressing her into the mattress as she nearly screams. This time, she’s almost certain someone can hear them, and _god_ , that only makes her come harder, squeeze tighter around Sweet Pea’s fingers as they curl inside her and brush against a spot that has her seeing stars.

Then his other hand slides down, his thumb on her clit, circling, and her head rolls back and forth as a whimper falls from her lips.

“Can’t,” Betty gasps, her voice cracking, her hands feebly trying to push at him.

Sweet Pea lifts his head but doesn’t ease his thrusts, doesn’t relieve her from the unrelenting pressure against her throbbing bundle of nerves as he flashes his teeth in another wicked grin. “You can,” he promises, slipping three fingers into her now, and the only thing keeping Betty’s eyes even a little bit open is the pull of his stare as she comes undone quite literally at his fingertips. “Give me one more, Princess, then I’ll fuck you nice and hard.”

_What?_

Her entire body throbs, the very thought of him inside of her oversensitive pussy making her mewl, though whether it’s in protest or in a plea, she’s not sure. She only knows that she’s about to come _again_ , and she’s both thrilled and terrified by the thought of this third time being the one that draws a curious partygoer to walk in on them. She tugs and tugs at Sweet Pea’s shirt, drawing a laugh from him as he leans up and licks into her gasping mouth, kissing away her moans of pleasure as he pushes her over the edge yet again.

She comes so hard it almost hurts with how good it feels, with how much pure pleasure is coursing through her as she writhes through the waves of her high. And Sweet Pea doesn’t relent, doesn’t ease the thrust of his fingers or the press of his lips against hers until she reaching between them and trying to push his hand away. He chuckles into their kiss, tugs her bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away, and Betty watches through blurred eyes and heavy eyelids as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks the taste of her from his skin.

“You still with me?” he asks, a little bit of tenderness smoothing out the ever-present taunt in his tone.

Betty almost shakes her head, still trembling with the last tremors of her orgasms - but then Sweet Pea gets his jeans undone, shoving them down his hips, and the sight of his hand wrapping around the hard, thick length of his cock is almost like a shot of adrenaline through her sated, shaking body. She knows he can see it in her eyes, too, because he breathes out another chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re still right fucking there with me, aren’t you, Princess?” He reaches for her, maneuvering her to roll onto her stomach and pulling her up onto her knees, and Betty moans into one of the pillows as his hand lands on her ass in a loud smack. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, and _this_ ,” he groans, and then Betty feels his hands in her hair, winding her ponytail around his knuckles and tugging, and what little burst of pain she feels from it shoots straight between her legs, throbbing in her clit. She throws her head back, her lips parting in a moan as she feels him rubbing his tip against her entrance.

He isn’t even inside of her, and already, she feels like she’s on the verge of passing out. She’s sated, her body almost numb with pleasure, yet the tease of his cock against her oversensitive folds - promising to fill her, to _fuck her_ \- has her hips rocking back against him, even though it feels as if she’s seconds away from melting into the pillows.

And she nearly does when he snaps his hips, filling her too quickly and stretching her too suddenly for her to do anything other than part her lips in a gasp as he sinks in deeper than anything she’s ever felt. He doesn’t give her a moment to catch her breath, either, doesn’t attempt to start off slow and doesn’t give her a second to get used to how long and thick he is before he falls into a quick and almost bruising rhythm. She tries to press her face into the bed, to bite down on a pillow to muffle her cries, but his hand gripping her ponytail keeps her firmly in place.

When she comes _again_ , she nearly screams, and it sounds obscene and wanton even to her own ears as it echoes around the room.

Sweet Pea releases her ponytail, letting her collapse against the pillows as every nerve burns with her orgasm, bracing one arm against the bed as his other hooks around her trembling body and tucks her body tightly against his. He fucks her _faster_ , groaning against her shoulder, his cock throbbing inside of her as his hips snap against hers, and Betty feels the edges of her vision starting to blur out of focus.

“C- _can’t_... _ah,_ please, S-Sweet Pea,” she whimpers.

“You _can_ , Princess,” he murmurs into the curve of her neck, his lips right against her thrumming pulse. He holds onto her even tighter, fucks her even _harder,_ if possible, and Betty feels her eyes nearly roll back as her eyelids flutter closed. “You can fucking take _anything_ , and I know you’ve got one more in you, so don’t go all damsel on me now.”

He reaches between her legs, his thumb pressing against her clit, and Betty bites down on one of the pillows to muffle her scream as she tips over the edge. She thinks she hears the stitching rip, except she’ll never quite know, because Sweet Pea is nearly growling into her ear as she clamps and clamps around his cock with her orgasm.

Betty doesn’t know how long it takes - seconds, entire _minutes_ \- before he follows her over the edge, his body going taut above hers, curling tighter around her as he throbs inside of her slick heat. His breaths are hot and harsh against her neck as he jerks through his own orgasm, his body wound so tightly around hers that she would’ve fallen completely apart without Sweet Pea holding her together.

She feels somehow tingling yet numb with pleasure at the same time, and she’s only seconds from passing out when she feels the tension in Sweet Pea’s body slowly start to ebb. He stays nestled inside of her as he rolls them onto their side and sags against the mattress, unwinding his arm from around her so he can drag his knuckles up and down her arm.

“You finally pass out on me, Princess?” he murmurs. She wants to retort in response, and even more so, she wants to sink further into the heat of his body, but she doesn’t have the energy to do either. There’s a moment of pause, and right before she slips under, she feels Sweet Pea smirk against the back of her neck as he whispers, “Atta girl.”


End file.
